


I Know I'm Bad News

by Wavesofwoodenlegs



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Awkwardness, Homophobia, I have no idea what I'm doing, M/M, Not real prostitution, Patrick is underage in this, Prostitution, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:46:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5003575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wavesofwoodenlegs/pseuds/Wavesofwoodenlegs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One cold night in Chicago a handsome man with dark hair and a blinding smile mistakes Patrick for a prostitute. Afterwards, their paths continue to cross. What comes from this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Patrick's pretty face

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for taking the time to read this. I'm kind of new to writing fanfic so bear with me. Please tell me if my paragraph breaks seem awkward. Like I said, I'm new. Thanks, peeps.

Patrick was standing on a street corner in a horrible neighborhood, waiting for a friend to pick him up. He was fidgeting constantly and hoping he didn't get mugged or something. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and wrapped his arms around himself trying to get warm. He was only wearing a hoodie (and his signature trucker hat of course) because he didn't think he would be standing out in the cold. 

In fact, the original plan was to go to this dumb party Joe had talked him into, then have Joe's stoner friend who didn't drink for "medical reasons" take them home in the middle of the night. Then, in the morning, his mom would come pick him up, thinking he was spent the night at Joe's playing video games and talking about girls like a good little seventeen year old.  
Instead what happened was, Joe got wasted almost immediately, because despite what he claims he's a lightweight. Then he ran off with some girl to probably make out until one/both of them passed out.  
Joe's stoner friend totally bailed, and is possibly dead or in another country.  
So Patrick was stuck on this street corner, in one of the worst places in Chicago, waiting for his friend Andy to come to the rescue.  
He waited for about 20 minutes, and the drive was only 10, so he expected a text from Andy any minute asking for better directions. Suddenly Patrick heard the sound of a car pulling up across the street and sighed in relief. About time, dude. But when he lifted his head from his phone he didn't see Andy's beat up van parked, instead a black car. 

The door opened and out stepped a man who was probably in his mid twenties. He approached Patrick, walking in a way that looked like he was trying to be casual but he was obviously slightly anxious about something, the way he kept looking around. 

"Hey, how much for a quick fuck?" He said quietly.

Patrick almost died of embarrassment right there. He automatically went red and his eyes widened.  
"Um. I...I don't do that. That's. That's not why I'm here." He cleared his throat. "I'm just waiting for my ride." 

It didn't help that the man was attractive. Tan with styled dark hair, and a handsome smile full of perfect teeth. The idea of sleeping with this guy made a virgin like Patrick an awkward mess. 

The man stepped back a bit and looked around, then pulled out a wad of cash. "Are you sure?" 

"Yes! Please leave me alone!" Patrick pleaded. 

The man shrugged and walked back to his car. Once he was completely gone, Patrick pulled out his phone and texted Andy.

"Where the hell r u? Some guy just mistook me 4 a prostitute!" 

He got no reply, but only a few seconds later he saw Andy's van drive up. Andy swung the passenger door open.  
"Andy! What the hell, man? I've been waiting in the cold forever!" He climbed into the passenger seat and shut the door. Andy shook his head.

"I got lost. You realize this is a really bad part of town, right? I'm pretty sure I passed both the bloods and the crips on my way here."

Patrick felt a bit guilty for making his friend drive here at 2 am and he supposed he didn't really have the right to be mad at Andy.  
"Yeah, I know. Sorry about calling you. Did you get my last text?"

Andy shook his head and pulled his phone out of the pocket of his shorts. A few seconds after he opened up his messages he let out a loud laugh.

"Seriously? A prostitute? You?! Oh my god. That's priceless."  
He kept laughing but Patrick didn't find it very funny. 

He made a "Hmph" sound.  
"I could have been raped or killed, Andy." 

Andy's grin wavered a bit. "Oh, yeah. That would've been bad."

Patrick suddenly felt bad. "But the thing that upsets me the most," he said in an attempt to lighten the mood again, "Is that I must've looked like one, right? How?" He looked down at his plain outfit. "I thought hookers wore like fishnets or push-up bras or some shit, I don't know man."

The grin returned to Andy's face "Something about that pretty face of yours I guess." He ruffled Patrick's hair and started driving away, down the street and away from the strange man in the strange car that would be the subject of every other thought in Patrick's head for a while.

\----

The next morning Patrick woke up in his own bed to the sound of someone opening his door. He glanced over and saw his mother standing there, shoveling his dirty clothes into a basket. He let out a groan and buried his face farther into the pillow, his strawberry blonde hair a mess.

"Oh! Patrick. Didn't see you there. Weren't you supposed to be at Joe's for the night, honey?" She asked with a confused look on her face. 

He sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes. "Uh yeah. We actually had an argument. So I had him drive me home." 

His mom nodded and bent down to get the rest of his laundry.  
"Well I'm sure he'll get over whatever it was that you two were fighting about. You've been friends for years."

Patrick forced a small smile and attempted to pet down his fluffed up mess of hair. "You're right mom, thanks. You can...you can go now."

His mom smiled and was about to exit until she decided otherwise and turned around. "You teenagers, you think everything's the end of the world. Honey, when you get older you learn that arguing is just a part of life." She looked at Patrick all maternal like. 

Patrick made an "Mmmhmm" sound and nodded once.  
"Thanks mom. You can really go now."  
She planted a kiss on his bedhead and walked out the door, shutting it behind her.  
Patrick sighed and fell back into the pillow, shutting his eyes and waiting to fall asleep again. Staying up till 2 in the morning on a freezing street corner will take a lot out of you. 

When Patrick woke up again, he looked at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It read 9:23.  
So he still had most of his day to do whatever he wanted. Of course, that didn't really matter because there was only one place Patrick really went besides Joe's house. His favorite record shop.  
Patrick pulled off his covers and clambered out of bed, then stood up and stretched. He made possibly the most sexual groan ever as he stood there with his arms above his head, enjoying the sun that was streaming through his window. He let his arms fall and made his way to the bathroom across the hall.  
He shut the door behind him and started to strip down, his boxers being last. Then he turned on the shower and fiddled with the faucets until the water reached a temperature in between freezing-my-ass-off and holy-fuck-hellfire.  
He stepped in, letting the warm water cascade down his body, soaking his hair and relaxing him. He let his mind wander as he stood there.  
Thoughts of Joe and the horrible party plan, thoughts of how he needed a new hat (not really but he wanted one,) finally thoughts of the strange man who mistook Patrick for a hooker. Patrick wondered what exactly would have happened if he had lied to the man and said he did have sex for money. What would the man say next? Where would they go? He thought about the dark haired man stripping him down bare, then tearing his own clothes off. He thought of the man kissing Patrick's neck, making him moan. He thought of the man fucking Patrick intensely. Patrick was shaken out of his fantasy when he heard his older brother, Andrew, knock on the door to the bathroom. 

"Hurry up in there!" Came a muffled shout from the hallway. Then he heard Andrew's footsteps walk away and the sound of him shutting the door to his own bedroom. 

Patrick cleared his throat and looked down at himself and his new...well...problem. He considered taking a bit longer in the shower this morning but changed his mind.

"Not today." He thought, and turned the water colder.  
Once his problem was somewhat taken care of, he quickly washed himself off with soap and rinsed. Shutting off the flow of water and stepping out of the shower, he reached for a towel. He dried himself off slowly and examined himself in the mirror. Taking in his pale skin, chubby figure, and dorky face, he wondered once again why the hell that guy wanted to have sex with him. Whatever, today he was set on getting a new Bowie record, he didn't have time for his self consciousness. 

He opened up the closet and examined his clothing options. Pretty much just jeans and t shirts, a few button downs. He grabbed an old Green Day tee and put on some faded blue jeans. Adventurous. He ran down the steps and called out to his mom sitting at the kitchen table.  
"Hey mom, I'm going out and taking the car."

His mom looked up and said "Okay. Be back before dinner hon."  
And he grabbed the keys from the counter and went out the door. 

After he parked in front of the shop, he opened the door and smiled at the familiar sound of the bell ringing. 

"Hey Brendon." He greeted the cashier who was also one of his only school friends.  
Brendon hummed, not looking up from his nails, which he was painting a dark blue color.  
"Nice nails." Patrick said.

"Thanks, Pat."

Patrick scowled at the nickname and walked slowly down the aisles, inspecting each row. He liked pretty much all music, so when a new record was in he almost always jumped to buy it. But not today. Today he was set out for Low. He made his way over to the right section and scanned the shelves and his eyes lit up when he saw it there. He lifted it up, and carried it unnecessarily gingerly to the counter where Brendon was blowing on his nails. He set it down and looked at Brendon expectantly.

Brendon furrowed his brows. "Um. Hold on." He then tested his nails, making sure they had dried completely. He smiled when he saw they had. 

Patrick payed for the record and left the shop, bag in hand. He knew exactly where he was going next, as his rush to get out the door this morning deprived him of something necessary. Coffee. 

He drove down to one of the many Starbucks and parked in front. Some people would like to moan and groan about it, saying that their drinks were overpriced or too fancy or simply too "mainstream" for them, but Patrick simply didn't care. Maybe he liked a Vanilla Bean iced frappe every once in a while. When he walked up to the counter he automatically looked up at the menus above the employees' heads. Most of the time Patrick was creature of habit, but it was nice to spice things up. Deciding against the Vanilla Bean today though, he looked down to the cashier to order a large coffee with cream but the words never escaped his mouth. Standing right in front of him, in a ridiculous green Starbucks cap and apron, was the man who mistook Patrick as a prostitute last night. He was staring at Patrick as well, looking very surprised. And apparently not embarrassed.

"What can I get you?" the man asked. His voice was kind of gruff sounding yet like it had a playful tone to it. Obviously last night not going to be brought up by either of them. 

Patrick stuttered out his order and then averted his eyes, looking at his shoes. He was now sure he's seen the stranger working here before but he didn't recognize him last night. When his coffee was done, he grabbed the cup and got the hell out of the Starbucks before he did something he would regret.


	2. Jesus and a fig tree, or something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course no one looked at him, but Patrick had a feeling everyone there could just tell somehow. Like someone had stuck a sign on his back saying "HOMOSEXUAL".

The day after the Starbucks incident it was Sunday, and Patrick had just been woken up for church by his mom. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes.   
He still couldn't get that guy out of his head. Why was Patrick so obsessed with him? It was one of the most embarrassing moments in his life, he should be trying to forget about it and everything associated with it. But. But something about that man. He didn't even know the guy's name, or anything about him. Patrick decided he should make up a name for him in his head instead of just referring to him as "the guy". He thought for a moment, against "Starbucky" and "creepyblackcar".   
Actually he should stop thinking that about the creepy part, it makes him wonder about what could have happened if he wasn't so polite and actually fucking raped Patrick or something. So he needed a name that made the man seem harmless and ordinary, like....Tom. Patrick had a neighbor Tom, he was nice. 

"Patrick! Get out of bed, or we're going to be late!" He heard his mom yell from a few rooms over. So Patrick threw back the covers and got up, ready to endure another day of lecturing about a religion he wasn't quite sure he still believed in. 

After he had completed his morning routine again and was fully dressed, he joined his family in the kitchen, where his brother was sitting at the table in front of a bowl of cereal. He had his phone glued to his face, and was texting some girl probably. Patrick didn't really care what his brother did. Their relationship was like most other sibling's, they were close in some ways but they knew when to get out of the other's way.

His mother was busy nagging his father about his hair because everyone had to look "at least halfway decent".   
Patrick looked down at his polo shirt and jeans, hoping that his mother deemed this decent enough and he wouldn't have to go change into something else.   
He cleared his throat and his mother looked back at him and scanned his outfit. She made a somewhat disapproving face but it must have been good enough, because she didn't say anything about it. Thank god their church was a pretty casual place.   
After two poptarts as breakfast and some more hair-fussing, they were ready to go out the door.  
Patrick took a deep breath before stepping out the door of his home. He could do this.  
\---  
He really couldn't do this. Patrick was sitting in a pew with his parents and disinterested brother, surrounded by wrinkly old women in floral dresses and sticky little kids squirming around in their seats. The pastor had just finished his lecture about Jesus and a fig tree, or something like that, when he cleared his throat and suddenly looked much more serious. 

"Now to touch on something we haven't ever before. If a man lies with a male as with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination." 

Patrick swallowed hard.   
Many of the men and some women nodded where they sat and murmured in agreement. Patrick even heard a gruff "Amen." Come from his father.   
That sentence was only the beginning of a long hateful rant from the pastor. Their church may seem laid back in some aspects, but deep down the people there were just as hateful as any other church.   
Patrick shifted uncomfortably for the rest of the sermon, his brother was invested in his phone of course, and his mother didn't seem phased by it. And of course no one looked at him, but Patrick had a feeling everyone there could just tell somehow. Like someone had stuck a sign on his back saying "HOMOSEXUAL". If it wasn't made clear yet, Patrick's parents and family didn't know he was gay, only a few of his close friends knew. It would preferably stay that way until he moved out. When the pastor wrapped things up and they were free to go, Patrick sighed in relief. He did it. He survived.

He decided that was enough of a social outing for the day so he spent the rest of it locked in his room with his guitar. Mostly just screwing around or playing covers, but he also started another new song, which is not what he needed. You see, Patrick composed music but he never finished it. He could normally string together a pretty good tune (and play all the instruments) but the things he lacked were good lyrics. He'd tried to write lyrics before and they weren't terrible, but they just weren't right. Patrick felt like some part of him was empty. Like there was a missing piece in a puzzle that formed a great musician. Maybe one day he'd find his missing piece.   
Patrick sighed. For now he was stuck recording songs on his shitty laptop and relying on GarageBand. What he would give for real recording stuff. 

Once Patrick decided that was enough fantasizing about what he couldn't have, he shed his clothes off and started brushing his teeth. As he stared at himself in the mirror, he remembered. School in the morning. Fuck. He briefly wondered if "Tom" had school in the morning, but dismissed the idea. Even if he was in his last year like Patrick, there was no way. He was at least in college, maybe out. Maybe a drop out. That was most likely. For the millionth time, Patrick mentally scolded himself for thinking about that guy. Just forget.   
He flicked the lights off and flopped onto his bed. Time for 6 hours of sweet unconsciousness before hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...this is kind of short, sorry. I promise the next will be longer.


	3. Hair styled like those Emo kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh Patrick, if only you knew the joys of gay sex. Sadly about 80% of this table is into vagina. But if you ever decided to sway to the other side a bit, I could hook you up." Brendon winked.

"The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell."

That was the last thing Patrick heard before his head was in his arms on the desk and he was asleep. You see, he had science first period, which was very unfortunate because that's when he was insanely tired and Mr. Weekes had a habit of droning on and on and on. Hell, he could've downed 10 red bulls before class and he'd still fall asleep. Patrick was getting really invested into a dream about a dancing man in a black cloak with extravagant face paint, when the barrier between sleep and the hell that is Mr. Weekes' class was broken.

"Mr. Stump?"  
That was the first thing Patrick heard when he regained consciousness. Patrick lifted his head up, and squinted at the fluorescent lighting in the room. 

"Do you know the answer?" 

Everyone was looking at him expectantly, except Brendon, to his right, who was trying not to laugh his ass off. And Joe, who Patrick couldn't see, but was sure that behind him he was snickering. Patrick sat up in his desk. His eyes darted around, then finally landed Brendon again who was mouthing something that looked like...'the purple windowsill.' No, that's not it. That makes no sense, what the actual fuck Brendon. Wait, 'The powerhouse....'

"The powerhouse of the cell!" Patrick blurted out under everyone's stares. 

Mr. Weekes looked unimpressed but sighed and said "Good, Stump." And continued with the lesson. Patrick looked gratefully at a smirking Brendon and mouthed "Thanks."  
Brendon mouthed back "No Pablo." Patrick was guessing he meant "No problem." Brendon wasn't very good at mouthing words.  
Out of paranoia Patrick struggled to at least keep his eyes open and on the boards  in the front of the class, until finally it ended.

A few classes (and naps) later and the sound that every high schooler dreams of was ringing, the bell excusing them to lunch. 

After Patrick trudged through the lunch line and collected a tray full of undercooked French fries and a hamburger that tasted like cardboard, he sat down on the end of the same table he sat at every day.  
To his right, Joe was having a conversation with Andy. Probably about some metal band Patrick's never heard of. Across from him, Brendon and Ryan were being really gay, as usual. Ryan was basically on Brendon's lap, and although Ryan wasn't a big fan of PDA, he had it bad for Brendon. To the right of the dynamic duo, the Way brothers were talking. Probably about comics. This is the way they sat nearly every day. And Patrick loved it. 

"So, Patrick. Andy tells me he gave you a ride home last night, right?" Joe asked. There was a twinge of guilt in his tone and Patrick knew he felt bad for abandoning him on Friday.  
Joe was a good friend, even though he didn't always act like it. Patrick instantly forgave him. 

Andy looked down at his tray and there was a slight smile on his face. "So, Patrick. You want to tell them what happened on Friday? What happened?" 

This got everyone's attention and now all six boys were looking at Patrick, awaiting the answer. 

He figured he couldn't not tell them. Then they'd never leave them alone about it. "It...um. So I was standing there alone, on the street corner,"

"Like a prostitute!" Brendon giggled.

"Hehe, yeah. About that, so this guy came up to me, probably early twenties, and asked 'how much for a quick fuck?' And I was like, um, no! I don't do that. And then he just walked away, and Andy came." Patrick decided not to include the fact the man also worked at Starbucks. God forbid they try to find him. 

Everyone at the table stared at him for a second, then Brendon burst out laughing and eventually everyone followed. 

"Oh my god! Patrick! He thought you were freakin dude hooker! That's hilarious!" Brendon howled. Ryan laughed too, albeit slightly uncomfortable. Him and the Way brothers were the only ones who seemed to realize that that meant their friend could've been in serious danger. They laughed hesitantly anyway though.

"Oh Patrick, if only you knew the joys of gay sex. Sadly about 80% of this table is into vagina. But if you ever decided to sway to the other side a bit, I could hook you up." Brendon winked. Ryan blushed at the implications of the first part of his statement, which Brendon noticed and continued to tease him about.  
Patrick laughed awkwardly and Joe gave him a knowing smirk. Joe was the only one at the table who knew Patrick was gay, as they had been friends for such a long time.  
Once lunch was over Patrick continued with his classes. It was a bit easier to stay awake after lunch to wake him up. The rest of the day went pretty smoothly, and before he knew it, the final bell rang and he was walking home. 

He was in his room, sitting on his bed and cradling his guitar yet again. He thought the music was okay, maybe a bit rough at the edges and missing some stuff but he was really proud of himself nonetheless. He'd always wanted to be a professional musician, maybe be in a band. 

"Pat! Dinner!" He heard his mom shout from downstairs. 

When Patrick sat down at the table he could easily see that his dad was angry about something, and that wasn't good. Not that his dad was abusive or anything, he just got really...intense when he was mad.  
"So," his dad started, still chewing on his meal, "After work, I have plenty of time to get home so I decide to stop for a coffee. I go into Starbucks, and order a plain black coffee. Impossible to fuck up, right? Well the cashier guy there, name started with a P or something, goes to hand it to me, and his hand slips, and all of it spills down the front of my pants and on the floor."  
Patrick's heart sank. That couldn't be...? No, it was unlikely. Even if it was, what did it matter? It didn't matter. He didn't care. That was a lie. He was obsessed. 

Patrick cleared his throat. "Uh, what did this guy look like?" 

His dad gave him a weird look. "Why do you care?"

Patrick shrugged. "So I know not to stop in when that idiot is working." 

His father smirked a bit at this. His mother winced. Patrick knew this was how to get information out of his father, agree with everything he says and match his angry disrespectful tone. 

"Tan, probably half black or something. Probably about 5'5". He was a short guy. Hair all styled like those emo kids or whatever." 

Well, that was definitely him. Patrick nodded and finished his meal and excused himself. As he laid in bed that night, dreading the morning, he wondered what "Tom's" real name was. Paul? Peter? Payton? This was useless. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to force sleep. It worked.  
\----  
Tuesday went by like any other average day, Brendon teasing and being a smartass. Andy being wise. The Way brothers being nerdy and adorable yet mysterious at the same time. Joe tried to offer to hook Patrick up with another gay guy he knew again. Patrick immediately turned him down. Why do all straight people do that? 

On Wednesday after school Patrick decided to stop by the record shop again. He just couldn't help himself. Except. When he approached the outside of the shop, there was a certain familiar face he could see through the glass this time. A certain someone who's name started with "P" and was really bad at holding coffee. Against his better judgement, he YOLO'd it and went inside. This ought to be interesting.


	4. Frank Sinatra's smug face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And before Patrick could properly process that he had just called him "a ray of sunshine," Pete was out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here's an update for y'all :) Id really appreciate if you left a comment, constructive criticism is welcome!!!

Patrick pulled the door open and the familiar jingle rang out once again. Immediately Tom, wait no. His name started with a P, right? Ptom turned to look and his face displayed a look of surprise when he saw who it was walking in. He was flipping through some old metal records, which wasn't really Patrick's taste but hey, it was better than the Top 40s CDs by the counter.   
As soon as Patrick stepped foot in the store and made eye contact with the tan mystery of a man, he had a moment of panic, then proceeded to speed walk to the Sinatra section out of Ptom's sight. The shelves were just tall enough that if he crouched down slightly he'd be completely hidden. Nice. Brendon no doubt noticed this bizarre exchange from behind the counter, with an eyebrow raised and blue fingernails tapping against the register. 

"Um, hey. You know Patrick here?" He asked. Patrick sunk down to the floor over in his aisle. 

Ptom cleared his throat. "We're familiar. Didn't know his name was Patrick though. I like it, it's kind of cute." 

Patrick choked where he was crouched on the hard wooden floor, Frank Sinatra's smug face almost daring him to speak up.

Brendon laughed. "Cute? Patrick! Get up and introduce me to your boyfriend!" 

Patrick slowly stood up awkwardly. "He's not my boyfriend." 

"Okay..." Brendon nodded. "Is there any reason you were on the ground?"

"I um...I lost a contact." 

Ptom and Brendon both said "Right." In unison, despite the obvious fact Patrick was wearing a pair of thick rimmed glasses.   
After a moment of silence, Ptom spoke up. 

"I'm Pete." 

Oh! A name. Patrick thinks that was one of his previous guesses, or at least he was close. 

"So," Ptom, now Pete, continued, "I don't know if you recognize me, you probably do, but I'm really sorry about that incident on Friday. I was in a weird place. I've never done that before, I swear." 

Patrick blushed a little at the mention of their first encounter. "It's okay. I heard you got some type of karma in the form of an embarrassing situation with coffee spilled everywhere." 

Pete was surprised, then embarrassed. "Oh my god, you were there?"

Patrick but his lip to hold back a grin. "No, actually. That was my dad." 

There was a few seconds when neither of them said a word, then they both burst out in giggles. Something about how awkward and strange it was made them crack up. Finally their laughs died down.

"Ahem." They both turned around and were met with a lost looking Brendon, glancing back and forth between the two. "How exactly did you meet?" 

"Uh, well...it's a funny story actually-" Pete started, but Patrick cut him off.

"Doesn't matter." He knew if he told Brendon this guy was the "street corner creep" (as Patrick's friends had nicknamed him) Patrick would never hear the end of it. 

Brendon narrowed his eyes but accepted the fact he wasn't going to get any information. "Alright. I'll be in the back if you need me. Just doing...work..stuff." He gestured vaguely with his hand. Patrick knew that Ryan was probably back there, so Brendon's so called "work stuff" was most likely making out. 

Pete walked toward Patrick, and he involuntarily stepped back a bit. He just met this guy, he wasn't sure he trusted that charming smile yet. 

"As you know, I work part time at Starbucks. Feel free to stop by sometime. It sure gets boring there and it'd be nice to have a ray of sunshine go through that depressing storm of half dead college students and rude business men. I work Fridays and weekends. Hope to see you."   
And before Patrick could properly process that he had just called him "a ray of sunshine," Pete was out the door.   
Brendon walked back in, he was obviously eavesdropping.

"What was that all about?" 

Patrick shrugged, and left the shop. It wasn't till he was halfway home did he realize he didn't even glance at the music. 

\----

At last, it was Friday! Patrick had to admit he had been looking forward to it. He briefly wondered if showing up the first day Pete was there would make him look too eager, but didn't really care. Nothing ever happened to him, especially getting a chance to hang out with a hot guy. He wasn't a middle school girl, he didn't need to "play hard to get." 

After school had finally ended, Patrick arrived at Starbucks. He had to weave through the array of, in Pete's accurate words, "half dead college students and rude business men" that was squeezing through the door and out the parking lot. His saw Pete there behind the counter. He made the apron and silly hat look attractive, Patrick had to admit. Once he got through the line, he was face to face with Pete. 

"Hey. I'm here." Patrick said. He really didn't know what he should say. 

Pete grinned. "I see that. In fact, I noticed you right as you walked in. A ray of sunshine."

"Oh, thanks." Patrick said with pink cheeks. "How's...making coffee?" He really wasn't good at this.

"Good, it's good. Well, technically I don't even make coffee. I just take orders. And spill it."  
This made Patrick laugh. Pete was funny.  
"I'm glad you stopped by. Would you like anything? Or are you just here for my charm and good looks?" He said.

"Yeah, just black coffee would be great."

"Bold, love it." Pete said. "Can I get a name, Patrick?" He said jokingly.

"I think you got it."

"Of course. It'll be ready in just a minute." Patrick smiled and stepped to the side. Two minutes later, Pete called out Patrick's name and handed the cup to him (very carefully). Patrick thanked him and Pete gave him a flirty "Welcome." 

After he left and was sitting in his car, he looked down at the cup. He expected to see just his name, but instead he was met with   
"Call me Sunshine." In messy handwriting, Followed by a smiley face and a number. Patrick felt giddy inside. Why this guy was taking notice of Patrick, he didn't know. But he really liked it.


	5. Brendon's a slut but overall a great kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's Patrick. From the coffee." He mentally slapped himself across the face. From the coffee? That doesn't make any sense. Or does it? His brain was a little scattered at the moment. However this slip up didn't even faze Pete and Patrick could practically feel the grin from the other side of the phone when he spoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Skipped an update and posted a week later, sorry. Anyway comments (especially constructive criticism) and kudos are very much appreciated. Thanks for reading.

Patrick slammed the door to his house shut, clutching the now empty coffee cup with the number on it. He was grinning, thinking that there was absolutely nothing that could ruin his good mood. It's been so long since someone had actually taken romantic interest in him. Oh no, the thought had just occurred to him that maybe this was a joke. It only made sense. All those times in middle school when popular girls would ask Patrick out and then run away giggling. And to make things worse this was a guy. Wait a second. Why would this guy write his number down, that's a little extreme isn't it? Well, maybe it's a fake number. But why go to the effort of writing a fake number down and flirting with him and everything if it was a joke? Wow. It was getting pretty sad how Patrick couldn't for a second entertain the thought of someone actually liking him. Whatever, he's overthinking it. He set the cup down with the keys on the kitchen counter and ran up the steps to his room. He decided he would write some music in his newly inspired mood. When he reached the top of the steps however, he froze. Coming from his room was an unusual sound. Voices. The voices of Andrew and no doubt his other three 19 year old friends. But what were they doing in his room? 

"Oh my god, listen to this one from a couple months ago." Patrick heard the voice of one of Andrew's friends say. Then the boy started talking in a voice that he assumed was supposed to be Patrick, but it sounded more like an eight year old boy who ate way too much sugar. "Joe, I swear to god if you set me up with another gay guy I am going to go back into the closet and lock it so you never try to introduce me to another creep again."  
Then a chorus of teenage laughter. 

Patrick almost died right there in the hallway. His laptop. They were going through his DMs! How did they figure out his password? Oh no, now Andrew and all of his asshole friends knew he was gay. And then his parents were going to find out and he'll be kicked out and disowned and then his friends will find out, and they'll probably be cool about it but he won't have a fucking family and no no no no this was not good. He didn't know what to do! Should he go in and bust them? That would probably end in humiliation. Well what was he supposed to do, then? He pressed his back against the wall and put his face in his hands. He really didn't want to embarrass himself even further but he couldn't help it. Tears started falling and then in a sudden burst of rage and embarrassment, he pushed the door open, revealing Andrew sitting on the floor with two other guys, and a third sitting nonchalantly on Patrick's bed, his laptop open. They all looked up and were shocked to see a crying, furious Patrick. 

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!" He shouted and the three other guys slowly sat up and pushed passed him, muttering stuff like "whatever, fag." But Andrew went silent and looked down at the floor.  
"We're gonna head home dude." Said one with a badly spiked 2004 pop punk do.

"Yeah." Andrew said awkwardly. 

Patrick crossed his arms and sniffed, his face still red and tears falling.  
"Get out." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Andrew said quietly.

"Um, maybe because your stupid jackass friends and the fact that mom and dad think gay people are going to rot in hell for all of eternity."

Andrew shook his head. "You could've told me." 

"Well, you know now I guess. Are you going to torture me about it?" 

Andrew suddenly wrapped his arms around his younger brother. "I - I'm sorry we did that. My friends are stupid."

"What were you doing in my room anyway?" 

"We just wanted to borrow your guitar. Jim knows how to play. You left your laptop open and...yeah...Anyway, mom and dad don't need to know."

Patrick thanked him quietly and pulled him closer. This was a crazy day. 

"So I'm guessing you don't have a boyfriend, then?" 

Patrick laughed.

\----

Saturday flew by with nothing but a couple nervous glances at a certain Starbucks cup and a brotherly smile at the dinner table. Then it was Sunday and time for another dreaded day of church. When Patrick came down for breakfast he saw his father was more enthusiastic than usual. 

"I heard that today the pastor is going more in depth about what he talked about last week. Sinning and who's going to rot in hell. Specifically fucking homos." Their mother scolded their father for his language while Andrew and Patrick looked at each other. Andrew seemed genuinely concerned so Patrick mouthed "it's okay." To him. He wasn't used to his brother caring that much about him so it was a nice change. 

Church was rows of the usual elderly and kids who didn't want to be there. Patrick felt like his button up was going to constrict to the point he couldn't breathe when the pastor started the sermon. Of course it was more stuff on homosexuality. How could they spend an entire hour talking about such a tiny almost insignificant part of the Bible?  
Afterwards when people were streaming through the doors to outside he felt like he could cry again. It helped that his brother had wrapped his hand around his arm in a comforting gesture, though their parents gave the two, who normally declined from all forms of physical contact from the other, a strange look.  
At home, their father smiled widely at them. "Well that was educational. Maybe next time you'll think twice about hanging out with that fag, Brandon, huh?"

Patrick was confused for a moment, until he realized. This was about Brendon! That pissed him off so much! Brendon was a great kid, kind of a slut, sure, but  a really good friend who wouldn't harm a fly. Unless that fly had their eye on the same pair of shoes Brendon wanted. But that wasn't important. 

"There's nothing wrong with Brendon!" He exclaimed and ran up the steps, his father surprised at the small outburst. He slammed the door to his room.  
He paced around and cursed silently. Finally his eyes landed on the empty cardboard cup sitting innocently on his dresser. He wanted to call Pete. Calling a hot guy who gave him his number after his dad decided to give him a lecture on the evils of homosexuality? Totally an awesome secret "fuck you."  
He grabbed it off the dresser and his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed the number. He shifted anxiously as he heard it ring. After 4 rings, a gruff voice asked, "Hello?"

Patrick seriously should've considered what he was going to say when he called first. Oh, well.  
"It's Patrick. From the coffee." He mentally slapped himself across the face. From the coffee? That doesn't make any sense. Or does it? His brain was a little scattered at the moment. However this slip up didn't even faze Pete and Patrick could practically feel the grin from the other side of the phone when he spoke.  
"Hey sunshine. What's up?"

My father is a homophobic asshole.  
"Uhh, not much."

"Cool. I'm just hanging. Be cool to hang with you though."

This guy was such a flirt, Jesus Christ. "Oh, thanks. I suppose we can arrange that?" WHAT EVEN WERE THE WORDS COMING FROM PATRICKS MOUTH?

"Yeah, I'm free all week. I told you my shift is only on Fridays and weekends."

"Is..is Wednesday good? Are you doing anything then?"

"Nope. That's good for me."

"I have school, so anytime after 3 would work."

"Of course. An education is very important. Do you know the cafe called Caffeine Cold? I thought maybe we could meet up there around 5."

Patrick tells him no and Pete informs him of the address. "You work at Starbucks though, why don't we get coffee there?"

Pete scoffs. "Are you kidding? I'm so sick of it. And the prices are ridiculous. I'm not paying $8 for an iced venti caramel whatever the fuck that tastes like fancy chocolate milk."  
This makes Patrick laugh.

"Okay, I get it. I'll see you then."

"Bye bye sunshine" 

Patrick pressed end. What a mixed bag of events this weekend has been.


	6. Subtlety is for suckers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey there. What's up?"
> 
> "I'm good, thanks." 
> 
> There was a moment of silent confusion.  
> "Sorry, how are you?" Patrick asked, flustered.
> 
> "Not much."

"So I heard there's a new kid. Really short apparently. And I heard he's got this insane punk hair that's like shaved on the sides and black on top. Oh, there he is!" Brendon lowered his voice to a loud whisper at the end and nodded his head toward a tired looking teenage boy with very cool hair indeed. And he was very short. He was clutching a lunch tray scarily tight and as he slowly walked past them he looked like he would rather die than be here. So naturally, Gerard invited him over. 

"Hey," he leaned over in his direction. "You can sit with us..." He said shyly.

The boy's face actually brightened and he followed Gerard to the table while everyone stared at him. It was very unlikely that Gerard interacted with any human outside of their group of friends let alone a new kid with a seriously intimidating hairdo. The two started a small conversation and Patrick could see a blush creeping across Gee's face. Oh, that's why. Looks like Gerard had a crush on the new kid. And it appeared the feelings were mutual. Patrick predicted they would be a couple by the end of the month based on how they were clicking. Mikey was smirking and Gerard was no doubt going to get an earful of teasing later. 

"I'm Frank." The kid said.

Different variations of "Hey Frank" sounded around the table and everyone introduced themselves. When it was Brendon's turn he grinned widely and said "I'm Brendon, and this is my hot and sexy boyfriend Ryan." Then placed a giant wet kiss on the side of Ryan's face, who scowled. Everyone laughed at the two and Patrick felt really happy. He loved these guys. And he could tell them anything, right?   
\----  
On Wednesday Patrick was all nerves. He couldn't stop thinking about negative outcomes. What if his brain decides to stop working again? What if he spills coffee all over Pete or something? What if the aliens finally decide to come and destroy earth right then? Of course that would happen to Patrick. The final bell of the day sounded at last and Patrick sprinted from his desk and was the first one to exit the classroom. He speed walked to his locker, grabbed his stuff and started walking home. He needed to shower and change before he went anywhere with a cute guy that expressed romantic interest in him. He would normally think he was okay but this morning he unfortunately slept in late which resulted in no shower, the t shirt he slept in and the first pair of dirty jeans he could find on the floor. Yeah, he needed to clean up a bit. 

When he got home it was already 4:00, so he hurried up the stairs and after pulling his clothes off, got in the shower. Once he was done and the bathroom was filled with steam he entered his room wearing only a towel, and pondered what he should wear. What was the perfect outfit that said "I'm very grateful to be here because you're way out of my league." but also "Pffft, desperate? No, I just happen to look good today."  He stared at his closet for a good 10 minutes and laughed at himself. What a gay stereotype. He finally chose a simple blue striped shirt that according to Brendon "brought out his eyes" and dark jeans. Perfect. He glanced at his phone. It said 4:45. Patrick did a double take. Shit. He only had 15 minutes and he had no idea how long the drive was going to take him. He threw on the clothes and toweled his hair furiously, combed it out so it didn't look too bad, and ran downstairs.

"Taking the car out, see you!" He shouted at his mom. 

"Oh, bye! Wait, did you change clothes?" She asked.  
But he was already out the door.

 

He stared at the GPS at his phone frustratedly. He was sure he could get there in less then 10 minutes of it weren't so fucking confusing! 20 minutes later he was on an unfamiliar road and was afraid he was going to miss the love of his life until he spotted a small earth colored caffe with a sign labeled "Caffeine Cold" Patrick sighed in relief and parked the car. The clock in his car said 5:06. Not too bad.   
He could see Pete through the window when he walked up and his heart sped up a bit. He had to remind himself to calm down. This could be nothing. He could be an asshole. 

"Hey." Patrick sat down in the wooden chair across the older man.

"Hey there. What's up?"

"I'm good, thanks." 

There was a moment of silent confusion.  
"Sorry, how are you?" Patrick asked, flustered.

"Not much."

Patrick scoffed but then started laughing with Pete.  
"I'm not very good at this whole date thing, if you can't tell." 

"Oh? Who said we were on a date?" Pete inquired, attempting to be witty and charming.

"Well, you wrote your number down on a coffee cup with "call me sunshine" and a smiley face after flirting with me for 5 minutes straight so I'd say it's a pretty safe bet." 

Pete grinned. Damn, those teeth were going to blind someone one day. "Subtlety is for suckers. How about we order?" He gestured to the counter where a lanky Hispanic guy was watching them, obviously eavesdropping. When the two looked at him however he averted his eyes so quickly Patrick wouldn't be surprised if they flew out of his head.  
"Gaaaaabe!" Pete groaned. "You promised not to be creepy when I brought over my hot date." If this was going anywhere he was going to have to get used to Pete complimenting him all the time. 

The accused "Gabe" lifted his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, Wentz. Just curious how you managed to get a looker like him to go out with a hot mess such as yourself."   
Patrick felt like he was in a parallel universe. Had this guy seen the muscles outlined underneath the sleeves of Pete's t-shirt?

"Aw, c'mon Gabey. Who wouldn't go for a hunk like me?" 

Gabe rolled his eyes. "Are you going to order?" 

They walked side by side to the counter. And Pete jokingly pretended to ponder over the menu on the chalkboard behind Gabe's back.  
"Pete. I know you get the same thing every time. Hurry it up." 

"I'll just have a salad." Patrick said. 

"Are you sure?" Pete asked.

"It's fine, really. I like to eat light."

"If you insist, but I'll have you know that Gabe here makes the best grilled chicken sandwich in the entire goddamn universe."

"I suppose...I can make an exception for the best in the entire goddamn universe. And a coffee."

"Alright! Whip us up a couple." 

Patrick giggled like a little girl and they made there way back down to their squeaky table.

"So, tell me about yourself, kid."

Patrick had no idea what to say. He supposed he should just start with the basics. "Well, My name is Patrick. I'm 17, I'm a senior in High School, I play guitar and a few other things, I'm not good at sports." 

Pete smiled and it was super genuine, like he really wanted to get to know him, not just give him money in exchange for sex. That was a good sign.   
"My name is Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, I'm 22, I'm a college Poli Sci dropout, I play bass and used to be in a lame ass band, and I'll have you know I was captain of the soccer team in high school." 

"A jock? Well guess this is over then." Patrick pretended to get up from the table, and Pete feigned a hurt look on his face. They laughed together. "Is that really your full name?"

"Yep. Full." 

"Mine is technically Patrick Martin Stumph. But I'll probably change that someday. Drop the H at the end."

"Of Patrick?"

"No, of Stumph." He laughed. Suddenly Gabe approached with the food.

"Here you go, lovebirds." And he dashed off into the kitchen like a mystical Hispanic unicorn. 

Pete and Patrick dug in, and continued to chat, talking about themselves, switching from topic to topic. 

"You said you used to be in a band?"

"Oh, yeah. A few years ago. Some shitty hardcore thing we called Arma Angelus."

Patrick's eyebrows shot up. "Hey, I think I've heard of you before! My friend Joe talks about your music a lot."

This made Pete smile a little. Patrick could tell he probably missed being part of a band.   
"Tell him the lead singer says hi."

The minutes passed, and eventually after a lot of good conversation and shameless flirting Patrick checked the small wall clock and sat up in surprise. It was almost 7!

"Hey, Pete, I have to go. Thanks for asking me out and everything." He was about to leave when he realized he'd be leaving Pete to pay. He scrambled for his wallet. "Shit, hold on I'll pay for the sandwich."

"Nah," Pete kissed him on the cheek. "Don't worry about it."

Patrick blushed and nodded his head then ran out the door home. 

He pulled into the driveway of his house and grimaced, knowing he'd have to face his parents who always expect him to be home for dinner. His phone had 7 texts and 5 missed calls. Ouch. It wasn't his fault he forgot to turn it back on after school was over! He'd been preoccupied with Pete. Ah, Pete. He'll be doing a lot of thinking about that boy while his parents lecture him. 

He pushed the front door open carefully, hoping maybe he could get to his room for the night and deal with it in the morning when there was no time for a long lecture, but today just wasn't his day luck wise. 

"Patrick Martin Stumph."

Come to think of it he wasn't a big fan of his middle name either. He'd have to consider changing that too.   
"Yes?" 

His mom let out an exasperated sigh. "What are you doing? You know we have a rule about being back before dinner, or calling." 

"I'm sorry! My phone was still turned off from school, I forgot." 

She shook her head with crossed arms. "Where even were you? Was it Joe's?"

"...yeah. That's. That's where I was. We played video games."

"I don't care what you did! Well, as long as you didn't do drugs, but I trust you to be smarter than that. Anyway, that's not the point. I was worried about you. You're grounded for the rest of the week. Including the weekend. You're lucky your father was working late tonight or you would've really gotten it."

Patrick nodded glumly and made eye contact with his brother who was sitting at the kitchen table giving him a sorry look. His phone was in his hand of course. He bet Andrew never forgot to turn it on. Patrick retreated to his room and started polishing up a song he recently started. When was he going to have a day when everything went his way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Update! This one is dedicated to every single person who reads this. You're all lovely. Also I have a tumblr, it's ABlueberrymilkshake (side blog, my main is too personal) same as my ao3. It's mostly art and aesthetic and stuff, but if you like that then I'd appreciate if you checked me out! :D


	7. Miley what's good?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick felt like he would cry again. Such kind words, he felt like he knew Pete his whole life. "Thank you Pete."

The next day at lunch Patrick was still bummed out from his mom grounding him. He wouldn't be able to see Pete! At least he could call him. What he wouldn't give to skip the bullshit cafeteria food and spend lunch in the cafe with Pete. He started daydreaming about Pete some more until Joe nudged him. 

"Hey, why were you in such a rush to get home yesterday?"

Brendon stopped fussing with Ryan's hair for a minute and looked at him, curious. "Yeah, why were you?"

Patrick didn't know what to say. "I...I just really wanted to get some studying done. Mr. Leto's got it out for me and if I don't ace this next test my grade is going to be alarmingly low." He tried to nod convincingly.

Joe shrugged and accepted this answer but Brendon smiled sneakily. This scared Patrick. Brendon no doubt was thinking back to the record shop incident and making some outrageous story in his head. This was not going to end well. Luckily Gerard suddenly remembered the name of a comic book character that has been bugging him for a week and he started shouting excitedly, changing the subject. Frank looked at him adoringly. So sickeningly cute, those two. 

The rest of the week flies by, Pete not calling him and him not calling Pete out of shyness. Patrick was kind of worried they wouldn't  meet again, he thought they really clicked last week. He got up Sunday morning and mentally prepared himself for church. They've kind of talked about homosexuality to death, there's really not many ways you can say "men who like men are going to hell." It gets a bit repetitive. He went downstairs to the familiar sight of his family bickering, mostly at the fault of his father. His mother eyed his outfit as usual, and then they left.

After church Patrick was so relieved. Not a single mention of gay people. Just a sermon on "serving the lord." At the kitchen table he pulled out his phone, thinking he'd call Joe or something. They couldn't hang out, due to the whole "grounded" thing, but maybe they could talk. They hadn't talked in a while, Patrick's been a bit distracted lately. His dad was still hanging up his coat when he turned to Patrick.  
"You're not calling Brandon, are you? I told you to stay away from that kid!"

Patrick took a deep breath and refused to look up from his phone to his father or other family who were watching the scene cautiously. "No, I'm not calling him." 

"That kid is just trouble. He's trying to manipulate you most likely. Or brainwash you."

"I said NO, I'm not calling BRENDON, so you can shut up about it!" He snapped.  
His mom gasped unnecessarily. Andrew just grimaced.

His dad raised his voice. "That pastor should've talked more about that gay shit that's happening and taught you a lesson because there's no way I'm letting you associate with fags, much less become one!" 

Patrick became infuriated. He was who he was for a reason. Damn his father. "JUST SHUT UP FOR ONCE!" He shouted. 

Andrew walked out of the room and their mom cringed.  
"Don't you dare tell me to shut up! I'll tell you who you can and cannot talk to, so don't think you're being some kind of cool rebel or some shit."

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!" Patrick screamed at the top of his lungs. Then, without much else left to say, stormed up to his room. Sundays were getting predictable. After slamming the door in a classic dramatic angsty teen fashion, he plopped down on the bed and began to cry. He hated living with his parents. They were never going to accept him. Wiping away tears, he angrily grabbed his phone and started dialing Pete's number, barely realizing what he was doing.

After a few rings, "Hellooo?" In a cheery voice. 

Patrick sniffed. "Oh, um, hi Pete." For some reason he almost wasn't expecting him to pick up. He knew his voice probably sounded a mess. God, this was so embarrassing why did he do this??? 

"Hey, what's wrong sunshine?" Patrick could hear the concern in his voice. Why was he so goddamn considerate.

"Just stupid parents stuff. I'm sorry I called you out of the blue, you don't wanna hear it."

"No, it's okay, you can tell me. I'm working right now but I'll ask to take an early lunch break so we can talk."

"No, no. You don't have to do that for me."

"It's fine. I'm getting peckish anyway."

"Okay then." Patrick waited a few minutes until Pete spoke directly into the phone again.

"Alright, I'm sat down and all ears. Tell me what's going on. You'll feel better, I promise." 

Reluctantly Patrick told him about church and the homophobia and his terrible father, but also how nice his brother was being and how he thinks his mom would be okay about it but she never really expresses an opinion on the subject.  
"So your brother knows?" Pete asked with a face full of sandwich.  
Patrick laughed and then explained the unexpected incident with the laptop to Pete, who continued to listen patiently, occasionally throwing in things like "hmm." And "oh no."  
When Patrick finally finished Pete let there be a pause then spoke."Well, it sounds like you have one hell of a brother, both in good and bad ways. Keep him close. My sister was always really supportive about my sexuality, and it's been great keeping her by my side. Now your parents on the other hand, honestly fuck em. One day you're going to go to college, obviously that wasn't for me but you seem like a smart kid, and you're going to meet tons of new people in all shapes and sizes and with different personalities and I promise so many of them will be cool and support you. You just gotta get through the tough times now with your head up and the knowledge that not everyone's a dick. I believe in you. Stay true to yourself, it'll be easier one day." 

Patrick felt like he would cry again. Such kind words, he felt like he knew Pete his whole life. "Thank you Pete."

"You're welcome, kid. My lunch break is over now, I gotta go work more. Lunch at Caffeine Cold on Wednesday?"

"I'll see you."

"Bye." Pete hung up.

Patrick felt a lot better now. He just had to avoid his father. He looked down at his phone again and thought he had one more call to make.  
Brendon knew something was going on. And besides, if he didn't tell him he would try to find out. And would succeed. Seriously, Brendon can FBI level stalk when he needs to. 

Brendon picked up on the first ring.  
"Miley, what's good?" He asked. That was how he answers the phone. 

"Hi Brendon. It's Patrick. What's up?"

"Hey Pat! Not much. Miss you at the record shop. Gets a little lonely...cuz you know...not too many people buy records..."

"Right. So about that record shop incident..." He could almost feel Brendon leaning forward. 

"So. The guy you saw the other day, me and him are kind of dating. I'm not even sure yet. We've met two times before that day. Once I told you about. It was on a street corner and he might've talked to me and mistaken me for someone and yeah I told you about that. We've been on a date. I've visited him at where he works. And I'm really into him. I should also probably mention I'm gay, but I think you knew that and even if not it was implied."

Brendon was speechless. "Oh. My. God. That- he- that was- OH MY GOD. Okay, first of all, the corner creep? Really? second of all, the CORNER CREEP? Dude. Third, congratu-fucking-lations because that is one hot piece of ass you've scored, Patrick Stump. Fourth, I mean fifth, wait no. Whatever it doesn't matter, when are you seeing him again? What's his name?"

Patrick was overwhelmed. "He's not creepy at all as a matter of fact! His name is Pete and he's actually really sweet and nice. We're gonna meet again on Wednesday."

"Can I come? I must witness this."

"No, Brendon." He giggled at his friend's enthusiasm.

"How old is he? Ooooh, Patrick, I always felt like you'd have a thing for older men."

Patrick blushed and rolled his eyes despite Brendon not being able to see him."Shut up. He's not old at all. He's only 22."

"And you're underage, Patrick."

Patrick sighed. "Barely. And besides I told you because I know I can trust you not to get him arrested and you were getting suspicious."

"Don't worry," Brendon said."There's no way I'm getting in the way of this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello I'm not comatose!!! So sorry this is late, I fell into a pit of procrastination and writer's block. I'll try to keep the updates more regular. Thanks to everyone who's sticking with me, and over 1,000 hits, wow!


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